


Taste for Danger

by larkscape



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Kink Discovery, Knifeplay, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, by which I mean skate blade play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 15:42:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12729450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larkscape/pseuds/larkscape
Summary: Victor knelt on one knee in front of the bench and settled Yuuri’s skate on his raised thigh, squeezing his ankle through the leather of the boot.Victor appreciates Yuuri’s skates. Victor appreciates them alot.





	Taste for Danger

**Author's Note:**

> Today is the day for finishing wips! Since I'm stuck at Starbucks waiting for the mechanic to finish with my car and all.
> 
> Set sometime shortly post-canon.

 

Victor knelt on one knee in front of the bench and settled Yuuri’s skate on his raised thigh, squeezing his ankle through the leather of the boot. They were alone in the rink, and thank the stars for that because Victor had been skirting the edge of something dangerous and hungry all morning. He wanted… he wasn’t sure what, beyond _Yuuri_ and _need_ and a floating, nebulous hunger.

“Yuuri,” he purred. Yuuri turned lovely brown eyes to him. “Yuuri,” he repeated, lower, a little wicked, and a responding flush spread on Yuuri’s face, his lips parting though no sound escaped.

Victor moved closer, bending Yuuri’s knee to change the angle of his skate until the blade rested along the muscle of Victor’s thigh. He traced his fingers over the crisscrossing laces, the touch feather light, and savored the way Yuuri’s blush spread down his neck, the way his knuckles paled where they clutched the edge of the bench.

Victor slid his fingers around the back of Yuuri’s ankle, wrapped his thumbs around the front, and pressed down.

He’d taken Yuuri’s skates for sharpening just two days ago. The edge of the metal bit into his skin, not sharp enough to slice through the jersey of his sweatpants but enough to feel the threat. Above him, Yuuri sucked in a noisy breath, his gaze sparking.

Slowly, achingly slowly, Victor guided Yuuri’s skate blade up his thigh, maintaining the pressure. He wished his pants weren’t in the way. He wanted to feel the cold metal against his skin, the drip of melting ice trickling down his leg.

He wanted Yuuri to skate Eros into his flesh. His body could be a rink for Yuuri.

Surely his grip was too tight— he wondered if Yuuri would bruise under his hands. A beautiful ring of purple fingerprints, just for Victor, twined around Yuuri’s ankle like jewelry to match the red scores Yuuri’s skates would draw on him.

Victor’s eyes slid shut as he turned Yuuri’s foot, just slightly, to fit the blade into the crease where his thigh met his hip. The phantom sting over the tendons there made his thoughts go searing and tight. His sweatpants were too thick to feel it properly, but he could differentiate between the inside and outside edges of the blade, twin lines of ice tracing over one of his most vulnerable places. His hands tightened on Yuuri’s ankle to press the steel further in.

Muscle and tendon protested the intrusion, and a warning tingle spread from his hip through to his toes, his shoulder blades, his cock: _danger, you’re playing with fire._ His nerves rang with it, but that only made him want more. Something hot and spiky coiled low in his belly.

One wrong move and Victor would be out for the season. More than that and Victor might be out permanently.

“Victor?” said Yuuri. Victor opened his eyes to stare up at him, and he had no idea what his face looked like but something in his expression made Yuuri moan and rock forward over his bent knee, reaching a hand to cup Victor’s cheek. His fingertips were cold behind Victor’s ear.

Without warning, Yuuri’s hand tightened, digging his fingers under Victor’s jaw. Oh, this was Eros Yuuri, this was the fierce, sultry predator that lurked behind the walls of Yuuri’s self-consciousness, suddenly unleashed. This Yuuri had fangs.

Victor felt his heart pounding as if from far away.

“I know,” whispered Yuuri. “I know what you need.”

He pressed his skate deeper into Victor’s hip and Victor’s vision whited out.

Oh.

Oh, _god._

Oh, _Yuuri._

Victor clamped down on the need to buck his hips, but couldn’t stop his spine from crumpling, folding him forward over Yuuri’s foot. Yuuri, _perfect_ Yuuri, how did he know? Victor balanced on that glorious edge between pleasure and pain with sharp steel digging into his hip flexors and his cock throbbing to the frantic beat of his pulse, and he didn’t know how badly he’d needed it until Yuuri gave it to him.

Just like everything else Yuuri gave to him: life, love, lust, all the things Victor didn't know he was missing until Yuuri brought them to him. He pressed his open mouth to Yuuri’s knee, breathing hot through the fabric of his track pants.

“Victor.” Yuuri’s voice above him was like music, like something from a dream. Hypnotic. “Look at me.”

Victor looked.

He looked and the spiky thing coiling in his belly grew with the covetous expression on Yuuri's face. Then Yuuri pointed his toes so the steel blade rolled over adductors, iliopsoas, all the overlapping muscles and tendons that let Victor move, that let Victor _skate_ , and the sweet threat of cold metal swept Victor under a wave of— not pain, but not quite pleasure, either. Something biting and overwhelming, like a mouthful of dry wine when he'd expected honey.

He never wanted it to stop.

Sometimes the risk was its own reward. He would let Yuuri ruin him, and gladly — all Yuuri had to do was say the word.

“Yuuri,” whispered Victor, not sure what he was begging for but begging all the same. “Please.”

“Yes,” said Yuuri, pressing deeper again.

Then Yuuri’s fingers clenched under his jaw again, four points of delicious pressure he could feel on the underside of his tongue pulling him like taffy into the sharp line of Yuuri’s skate blade, and Victor made a shocked, wounded sound as he came utterly undone.

“Oh— oh, Yuuri—”

Liquid fire sliced up his spine, a forking line of merciless ecstasy originating at the crux of his hip and spearing through every part of him, scalp to nipples to balls to toes and escaping from his cock. He buckled with it. Yuuri watched him go down through sparkling eyes, fingers tight on his jaw and skate blade digging into his hip the whole while.

A small eternity passed as Victor panted through the dregs of his release.

“Victor,” Yuuri said eventually. His face was very close. Victor wasn't sure when he’d moved, but he approved wholeheartedly. Yuuri kissed his forehead. “Victor? Was that… too much?”

Victor looked at him flatly from under his hair.

“Ah. I’ll take that as a no.”

“Yuuuuri, can I…?” Victor nosed at the inside of Yuuri’s lifted knee, drawing kisses up his thigh in a meandering line.

“Oh. Yes. Victor.”

Elastic was one of the greatest inventions of the modern world. It meant that the only thing standing between him and Yuuri's cock was the slight tug necessary to pull his track pants and briefs down a bit, and the elastic gave under his fingers with ease. Then Yuuri was bare before him and he could take that gorgeous length into his mouth.

At the first brush of tongue, Yuuri grabbed Victor’s hair and groaned loudly. Victor wrapped his lips around the shaft and slid down, sucking messily.

“Mine.” Yuuri’s voice had gone deep again, rough with desire, and Victor had to pull off to answer him.

“Yours, only yours, Yuuri—”

Yuuri bucked, his cock bumping Victor’s lips, and Victor reapplied himself, working his tongue along the length of it and then swallowing it down. Yuuri must have been very close already because it only took a few moments more before he was spilling hot into Victor’s throat, legs shaking and skate still pressing deliciously, inescapably into Victor’s hip as he curled forward.

After, when Victor had caught his breath, when he’d unlaced Yuuri’s skates and guided his feet into shoes, when he’d paused in lavishing Yuuri’s calves with delighted, overwhelmed kisses and Yuuri’s fingers were stroking gently through his hair as he rested his head on Yuuri’s knee, Yuuri finally spoke again.

“Good?”

Victor shook his head, or tried to. His forehead rolled over Yuuri’s knee.

“No, Yuuri, it was _amazing._ You’re amazing.” He rested where he was for a moment longer, but his trousers were getting uncomfortable, sticky and wet in front, and they should really be going soon. He looked up at Yuuri with his best bedroom eyes. “You’ll do it again sometime, right?”

Yuuri smiled at him. _Amazing._

Victor hissed upon standing. That... may have done a little more damage than he’d realized. The seam of his hip stung in shivery lines like the scratches Yuri’s cat had given him the last time he’d pet-sat.

“Oh, no,” Yuuri said, his face crumpling with concern and self-reproach. “Did I hurt you? Victor, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Victor cut him off by catching his jaw in both hands. “Yuuri, you didn’t hurt me.”

These were much better than cat scratches; these were a gift from Yuuri. Shifting his weight brought a fresh sting that shot along confused nerves directly to his cock.

Yuuri didn’t look convinced.

“Well, maybe a little,” Victor conceded with a smile. He leaned in until their foreheads touched and Yuuri’s face filled his vision. “But I liked it.”

 


End file.
